


The California Primary

by malapertqueen



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Consensual Infidelity, F/M, Kissing, M/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-14
Updated: 2017-03-14
Packaged: 2018-10-04 18:21:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10285733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/malapertqueen/pseuds/malapertqueen
Summary: After winning the California democratic primary, Matt Santos goes looking for his campaign manager





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [speakingwosound (sev313)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sev313/gifts).



They win California.

The entire Santos campaign fully embraces the sudden, unexpected high of winning one of the biggest Super Tuesday races, and it’s was long after midnight by the time Matt finishes shaking hands and working the press. Helen had disappeared at some point after the fifteenth soundbite, citing the late hour and her early morning flight back to Houston.

The party is still in full swing up in the suite, his bright-eyed and more than a little tipsy staff giving him more cheers and handshakes and even a hug. The last was from Ronna, who seemed to float on a cloud of excitement and the mid-level champagne that had appeared at some point in the evening. 

Nowhere to be seen, however, is his campaign manager.

“Do you know where Josh is?” he asks Ronna, flashing a smile and a quick ‘thanks for your hard work’ to a knot of nearby staffers who are eyeing him with the kind of unreserved adoration that only the youngest and most idealistic staffers seem to possess. 

“I don’t know,” she admits, her expression turning thoughtful. “I haven’t seen him since you went downstairs?”

That was...unusual to say the least. Not that Matt expected Josh to be in the thick of the party, but he’d at least assumed the man would want to stick around until he could give Matt an update on their game plan for Texas. “Well, in case he comes up here looking for me I’m going to bed.” 

“Goodnight, sir.” Ronna raises her mostly-empty glass to him and he nods, turning back towards the hallway of the suite that leads to the room he and Helen have to themselves. Helen is fast asleep, sprawled face down on the bed, her dress and heels flung onto the couch; he smiles fondly when she lets out a soft snore. 

Matt really should be tired, with the day he’s had, but there’s a buzz that’s still running through his veins, mostly caffeine and leftover adrenaline from the win, and a strangely nagging feeling of something left undone. Careful not to wake his wife, Matt ditches his suit coat and his tie, slipping out the door in the bedroom that leads back out into the hallway instead of the suite. It’s blissfully empty of staff and press--the former still in the suite and the latter safely confined to the ballroom for the night.

His wandering takes him almost immediately to Josh’s room. The door is propped ajar by the swing bar but Matt knocks softly on the doorframe anyway, not wanting to intrude if Josh is waiting for someone else. He gets a muffled ‘come in’ as a response and slips inside the hotel room, careful to close the door gently behind him.

There’s no light in the room except the ambient light from outside; Josh is standing at the window, his face mostly in shadow. He turns when Matt clears his throat, and Matt catches sight of a pensive expression before Josh gathers himself back into business mode. “Did you need something, Congressman?”

“Actually, I came to see if you needed anything from me.” Matt crosses the small room to stand next to Josh, glancing out the window at the hotel parking lot. Josh’s room has an excellent view of the satellite trucks, each one still a hum of activity despite the lateness of the hour, the twenty-four hour never ending media frenzy always hungry for more. “I figured you’d want to talk about our next steps in Texas”

Josh glances up at Matt, a wry smile on his lips. “You had a big day. I thought I’d let you get some sleep before the chaos descends tomorrow morning.”

“You mean it hasn’t already?” Matt shoots back, amused, and Josh lets out a soft huff of laughter. 

“Fair point.” Josh looks back out at the parking lot, the smile fading from his lips. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have tried to push you so hard towards the things you didn’t want to do in California. We nearly lost because I didn’t listen to you.” His voice gets softer, a thread of uncertainty running underneath. “You didn’t need mey help to win here; you did it just fine on your own.”

Something twists painfully in Matt’s chest a the bleak expression on his campaign manager’s face. Even in the lowest moments, he’s never seen Josh look so lost. “Josh,” he says softly, laying a hand on the man’s shoulder. “I wouldn’t have even gotten to California without you. I’d still be carrying cans at the Litchfield dump if you hadn’t kicked my ass and made this a real campaign.”

When Josh says nothing, his gaze still fixed outside, Matt sighs. “We won California because you believed enough in me to give me the knowledge and the strength to be a real candidate for the nomination. And I can’t do the rest of it without you.” He pauses, then adds. “And I don’t want to. This is your campaign just as much as it’s mine.”

Josh turns to look up at him again, searching his expression for any sign that Matt might be bullshitting him; it’s habit in politics, they all do it--sincerity is a luxury. But Matt has time for sincerity now and he gives Josh’s shoulder a gentle squeeze, trying for a bit of humor. “At least you can stay out of federal prison now, what with not having to mortgage your house for my sake.”

“I still would,” Josh says, his mouth twisting into a half smile. The gleam in his eyes is fierce. “If it meant guaranteeing that you won the presidency, I’d still do it.”

Matt opens his mouth to respond but is cut off by Josh’s mouth on his in an unexpected kiss, hard and unyielding.

Matt’s thoughts skid to a halt, derailed by this sudden turn of events; his instincts race ahead anyway, the hand he still has on Josh’s neck sliding around to cup the back of his head and pull him in. A flicker of slow heat curls low in Matt’s stomach when Josh presses himself against Matt’s broad chest, one hand holding on to Matt’s sleeve in a vice grip. Josh tastes like stale coffee and Red Bull--it should be gross, but Matt keeps kissing him anyway, swallowing the needy whine that escapes Josh’s mouth when he grips Josh’s neck a little tighter. 

But just as quickly as it started, it stops.

Josh pulls away suddenly, taking two steps back towards the window, his breath coming in harsh, quick pants. Matt’s sluggish brain, previously distracted by the kissing, finally catches up to the proceedings. _Helen_. He flinches at the cold, sharp stab of guilt that tears through him at the thought of his wife.

They’re staring at each other, wide-eyed and silent. Matt knows he should say something, but he can’t quite find the words. “Josh--” he starts anyway, determined, but Josh shake his head quickly and Matt falls silent.

“That never happened,” Josh says firmly; there’s a slight hitch in his voice despite the sharpness of his tone. “We never speak of this again because this never, ever happened.”

 _But it did happen_ , Matt’s brain supplies unhelpfully, complete with a flash of very recent memory, and he catches himself looking at Josh’s mouth again, which is pressed into a firm line. When Matt looks up to meet Josh’s gaze, there’s a flush to the other man’s cheeks but his voice is no-nonsense. “Go to bed, Congressman. We’ll talk about the Texas strategy in the morning on the plane.”

Not trusting himself to speak without making things a hell of a lot worse than they already are, Matt nods sharply, just once. Josh returns the nod and turns back to the window in silence, leaving Matt to quietly slip out of the hotel room.

His mind races, from the moment he leaves until he’s slipping into bed beside Helen, guilt and shame mixing with the faint memory of the heat of Josh’s mouth. She lets out a sigh when his weight hits the mattress, her body shifting to make room for him out of unconscious habit. The guilt threatens to overwhelm him until, exhausted physically and mentally, sleep finally manages to claim him.

 

-

 

Early--too early--the next morning, Matt looks at himself in the hotel bathroom mirror; the unflattering light highlights the dark circles that have taken up permanent residence under his eyes. Someone will probably want to slap makeup on his face so he doesn’t look quite so much like the living dead during his remote interviews. The prospect of facing anyone today, let alone the scoop-hungry media, is unappealing to say the least.

“Matt?”

Helen appears behind him, pausing to yawn before she wraps her arms around him from behind. She meets his gaze in the mirror with sleepy fondness. “You don’t have to be up for another hour. Go back to sleep.” 

“I can’t,” he confesses, taking one of her hands and giving it a squeeze. He should tell her about what happened; he’s never kept a secret from her before, but the words die in his throat, unspoken.

“Mm. Well, at least we’re going home today. You can smile and shake down some more obnoxious rich people for donations to your ragtag campaign.” Helen kisses his bare shoulder, her voice teasing. “And then I fully plan on sedating your entire campaign staff long enough for you to get a full night’s sleep in your own bed.”

Matt lets out a quiet huff of laughter despite himself, turning around so he’s facing Helen. There’s a mischievous light in her eyes and he forces himself to smile at her. “Is that all I get to do in that bed, Mrs. Santos?”

“Well, maybe we can watch a movie--” Helen starts, but Matt interrupts her with a kiss. She pulls back after a moment, smirking. “Or something.”

“Well, if you change your mind about ‘or something’, maybe I’ll just have to settle for Josh.” The words escape before he can stop them. Matt freezes; Helen’s eyes widen in surprise. Matt looks away, sick with the sudden rush of guilt.

There’s a long moment of silence. “Is something going on with you and Josh?” Helen’s voice is strangely calm; Matt can’t bring himself to look at her until she cups his chin in her hand, turning his face towards hers. 

“Helen--” he starts, but she puts a finger against his lips and he falls silent again.

“Yes or no, Matt.” Her expression is serious, but there’s no anger in her gaze, just a strange sort of calm that Matt desperately wishes he could find for himself right now.

“Yes.” The admission is hard, but Matt manages it anyway for her sake. She’s been his wife for fifteen years; she deserves the truth, no matter how terrible. He loves her too much to lie to her about something like this. “He kissed me, last night.”

Helen gapes at him for a moment, then collects herself. “And you kissed him back,” she guesses, and Matt’s guilty expression is enough confirmation. “Did you do anything else?”

“No.” That answer, at least, he can give firmly. “The kiss just...happened. “ It sounds stupid, even as he says it outloud, but it’s the truth. There had been no warning; one moment they’d been talking, and then next minute Josh has been kissing him.

“Do you want it to happen again?” Helen clearly isn’t about to just let him get off easy, but she still doesn’t look angry, or sick, or sad, or any of the other myriad of emotions he’d expected. She just looks...thoughtful.

“I don’t know,” Matt answers, frowning. He hasn’t even had time to think about it happening again, not when he’s just hoping to get through this conversation without breaking Helen’s heart even more than he probably already has. “It shouldn’t. The campaign--”

Helen cuts him off again, impatient. “And if the campaign weren’t an issue?”

Matt thinks about it for a moment, remembering the way Josh’s chapped lips felt under his own. Different than Helen, but no less desirable. He swallows hard, willing the memory away so he can focus on Helen again. “It doesn’t matter. It was a mistake. It won’t happen again.”

Helen sighs, cupping his cheeks in her hands as she holds his gaze with her own, unflinching. “Matthew,” she says gently “I know you. You’re going to sit here and eat yourself alive with guilt over this because you think I’m going to be disgusted or furious that you let Josh Lyman kiss you.” She presses a soft kiss to his unshaven cheek. “But I’m not. Because that man’s been half in love with you since he showed up on our doorstep in Houston and I’m just surprised it hasn’t happened before now.”

“What?” Matt finds himself reeling again for the second time in just a handful of hours, staring at his wife in disbelief. “I think maybe you’re reading too much into this.”

She scoffs at his denial. “Doesn’t matter what you think, I know what it looks like to be in love with Matt Santos.” An amused smile curves at her lips. “And I know you’re not going to just up and leave me for possibly the most irritating man in existence. You’re stupid, but you’re not that stupid.” 

Matt chokes on a laugh, half-amused and half despairing. Helen kisses his forehead.

“Just...be smart about it, okay? Be honest with me about whatever else happens.” Helen takes one of his hands and intertwines their fingers, squeezing softly. The affection in her eyes is genuine and it makes the tightness in Matt’s chest ease somewhat. “I trust you. I trust us.”

“I love you,” he says sincerely, meaning it down to the deepest part of his heart, bringing her hand up and kissing it. She makes a face at him, not overly charmed by the gesture, but he keeps her hand and it doesn’t take long for her expression to soften into fondness again.

“I know,” she says, giving his hand another squeeze. “I love you too. Now go and take a shower before the staff show up and I have to smother Bram with a pillow for fussing about your bedhead again.”

 

-

 

The problem with this whole Josh situation is that there’s just no time on the campaign trail for Matt to even get a moment alone with him. Matt’s schedule is packed from sun up to midnight with fundraisers, meet-and-greets, stump speeches, and too many interviews to count. Through it all, however, he’s more aware than ever of Josh’s presence--the whirlwind of manic energy at the center of this sideshow, energy drink in one hand and his Blackberry in another. A lesser man might have collapsed from the exhaustion, he thinks; Josh seems to thrive on it.

He finally gets his chance a week later in Dallas.

The staff has been discussing new polling data from Joey Lucas for nearly three hours when Matt realizes that Josh has, at some point, stopped paying attention to the conversation. His campaign manager is currently staring off into space, a strange expression on his face, and it sends an odd mix of exasperation and affection through Matt’s chest.

“You okay Josh?” 

Josh snaps back to reality, blinking rapidly before he yawns. “Yeah, sorry. Just tired—can someone start another pot of coffee?” 

On the edge of his vision, Matt sees Ronna struggle to hide a yawn of her own behind her notepad. “How about we call it a night instead,” he suggests, looking around at his exhausted campaign staff. Every single one of them looks like they could use a week’s worth of sleep. “I think we all earned more than two hours of sleep tonight.”

Josh frowns, opening his mouth (most likely to protest), but he clams up again under the weight of Matt’s glare. The collective sigh of relief from everyone else in the room is almost audible.

“Josh, stay here for a moment and we’ll finish up. Everyone else, go get some sleep.” Matt feels a moment of guilt; using his staff’s exhaustion as an excuse to get a minute alone with Josh is a pretty desperate move. Especially when he’s still not one hundred percent sure this isn’t going to blow up in his face and ruin the meager chance he’s still got left to win the damn election. But desperate times call for desperate measures, and right now he’s feeling pretty desperate.

One by one, his staff gather up their piles of paper and laptops and half-empty coffee cups, filing out of the hotel suite with mumbled ‘good night’s until the door closes behind Bram and he’s left alone with Josh, who’s gone back scanning over the polling data from Joey like it contains some secret message that will help win this entire thing.

“Josh.” 

“Mm?” Josh doesn’t look up from the polling data.

“Josh.” He puts as much authority into his voice as he can muster, and Josh’s head snaps up obediently. When he catches the serious look Matt is giving him, his grip on the papers tightens a fraction.

“We should really talk about these polling numbers,” he says quickly, holding Matt’s gaze for half a second before looking away. “There’s some numbers here that I think--”

“We really need to talk about something else right now.”

Josh’s expression shifts into a professional distance Matt hasn’t seen in him for months. “No,” he says, his voice firm. “We really don’t.”

Matt ignores his protest, draining the last of the bottle of water he’s been nursing for an hour. It gives him time to form his next words. “Helen knows,” he finally says, and Josh’s face almost instantly drains of color.

“She does?” Clutching the polling data even harder now, Josh sounds like he’s going to be sick. “God, I’m sorry, I’ll go apologize to her, tell her it was me and that you had nothing--”

Matt cuts him off mid-ramble, but Josh’s willingness to throw himself at Helen’s mercy for Matt’s sake is oddly a little bit gratifying. “She’s fine with it,” he says, and waits for the words to sink into Josh’s whirlwind brain.

It doesn’t take long. “She is?” The incredulousness in Josh’s tone is unmistakable. “I don’t understand.”

“I told Helen about what happened between us and she’s fine with it,” Matt repeats slowly, rising from his chair to walk over to where he knows there’s a bottle of whiskey in a carton marked as ‘important office supplies’. Bram isn’t very creative with his hiding places. “She thinks we’re crazy, but I’m pretty sure that’s not anything new.”

He pulls the whiskey from it’s hiding place along with two glasses from the sideboard, holding it up for Josh to see. Josh nods at the implied offer, still looking stunned. Matt lets the silence linger between them as he pours them both a glass and brings one over to Josh, who sets aside his polling data and takes the glass with a slightly unsteady hand.

“What do you want from me, Josh?” As much time as he’s had to think about this conversation, Matt’s still doesn’t feel as confident as he’d like about the whole thing. “Is this just some kind of kinky power balance thing, or--”

Josh’s snort of derision cuts him off. “It’s not like that,” Josh says, taking a sip of his drink. He pauses, then adds “Well, maybe a little bit.”

Matt holds back a snort of laughter, pressing on.“If you’re expecting me to leave Helen, you’ve got the wrong idea.” He’s nearly certain that isn’t the case, but it’s the most important point he has to make: Helen and his family will always come first.

“God no. I’d kick your ass if you did leave her, even if she is too good for you,” Josh shoots back, glaring at him as if offended he even had to ask in the first place. “Also, I’d make a terrible First Lady.”

Despite himself, Matt does laugh at that; Josh grins at him for a moment, then turns sober again. “It’s not that complicated,” he says simply, looking down at his glass instead of Matt. “I...y’know.” He waves his free hand around vaguely. “But I suck at feelings--just ask anyone who’s ever had the misfortune of dating me.”

“I may have heard something like that.” Not that he usually pays attention to gossip, but Amy Gardner had been shockingly blunt with him in New Hampshire. He’d asked her once about Josh’s weaknesses as a person and as a political strategist, and she hadn’t held back. 

“So yes, I may have some sort of thing for you, maybe,” Josh says quickly, clearly trying to downplay any actual feelings that might exist. “But more than anything, I want you to be president, and I’m not going to do anything that would jeopardize that chance.”

“So, where does that leave us?” Matt sits down in one of the arm chairs and leans back a bit; he doesn’t miss the way Josh’s gaze roves across his body with interest before looking away again. It’s an encouraging sign. “Because I really want to be president. But I also wouldn’t mind seeing where this thing goes.”

Josh doesn’t say anything for a few minutes, staring into his now half-empty glass. Matt lets him have that silence, sipping at his own whiskey as he watches Josh silently examine the issue from all sides like a puzzle to be solved. He’s seen Josh do it a hundred times, but never with something so personal. It’s reassuring to know that even in this, Josh is still fundamentally the same person he already knows.

“It doesn’t change our professional relationship,” Josh says finally, looking up to meet Matt’s steady gaze. His voice is firm, decisive, leaving no room for argument. “If it starts to affect the campaign in any way, we’re done. If Helen changes her mind, we’re done.”

“Agreed.” It’s what Matt would have asked for himself, which is a good sign. “And if you change your mind about wanting this, just say so and we’ll be done. I’d rather have you by my side as my campaign manager than not at all.”

“As if I’d let you replace me,” Josh counters, smirking. Matt used to hate that little smirk before the campaign, whenever he had to deal with Josh on the hill; it’s much more enjoyable now when he knows Josh is on his side. “Whose campaign is this again?”

“Mine, actually.” Matt drains his glass and sets it on the coffee table. “I don’t see your name on all those lawn signs.”

“Details.” Josh scoffs, standing up automatically when Matt rises from his chair. “We really do need to talk about this polling data though. There’s some interesting things about reactions to the health care part of the stump that I think we need to work on.”

“We’ll talk about it tomorrow before breakfast.” The advantage to being taller than Josh is that it only takes two steps for him to close the distance between them, forcing Josh to have to look up. “ _After_ coffee,” he adds, with a smirk of his own. Then he leans down, catching Josh’s lips in a languid kiss; just deep enough to taste the whiskey on Josh’s tongue. When Josh tries to push for more, Matt carefully pulls back, trying not to laugh at the clear mix of outrage and disappointment on Josh’s face. 

Stepping back, he gives Josh a smug grin. “Have a good night, Josh.”

Josh grumbles a few choice curses in response. Matt manages to hold his laughter in until he’s back in his own room. 


End file.
